


Not Close Enough

by Silence_burns



Category: DC Extended Universe, Suicide Squad (2016)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Humor, Some Swearing, violence during a mission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-15
Updated: 2018-09-28
Packaged: 2019-07-12 15:17:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15997919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silence_burns/pseuds/Silence_burns
Summary: Based on: Imagine Rick Flag getting jealous of how close you are with Deadshot.





	1. Chapter 1

Sharpening one of your knives, you looked for any cracks in the thick black spray covering the blade. You’d need to fill it in after the mission.

Floyd’s voice broke through the other people’s conversations when he leaned closer to you, checking his own weapon. “I’ve been wondering for a while now, but why do you paint your knives black? Is it some kind of aesthetic shit? ‘Cause it’s all really classy, but, you know, a bit too much, if you ask me…”

“Maybe that’s why I’m not asking you,” you shot him a cocky smile. “I don’t want them to reflect the light when I don’t necessarily want to be spotted.”

“But that’s a lot of paint and work…” he looked over your little collection.

“So far it’s worked.”

“You should take notes, Deadshot,” Flag snickered, walking past you. “It’s called ‘precautions’ if you need to look it up.”

“Nice one, colonel. I’ll check the ‘boring useless shit’ section.”

You burst out laughing, shaking your head. Resuming your work, you set your gaze downward, so you didn’t notice the sharp glance Flag sent you, tightening lips in a thin line.

“Wheels up in ten,” was all he growled out before stroding away to the Bravo team.

“The hell’s wrong with that guy?” Deadshot frowned, filling his belt with more ammo. You just shrugged it off, putting your belongings back on you. You eyed Flag from a distance, but couldn’t find anything unusual. He’s always been tense during missions and he couldn’t be blamed for that - he not only wanted to complete the mission, but also had to watch over the Squad constantly, and prevent them from implementing any dumb ideas. That was a full-time job that had probably created multiple nightmare scenarios for him since you first met. Strange how he hadn’t gone mad yet.

“Harley, move your ass,” you kicked her leg a few minutes later, trying to get into one of the cars.

“No way! I’m not sitting any closer to the croc!” she objected in a high-pitched voice that always annoyed you. “You’ve seen how he gets during the rides!”

“Don’t be a bitch, I’m not gonna ride on the roof-...”

“And I’m not gonna let my clothes smell like fish!”

Flag appeared out of nowhere, separating you. “Shut up, both of you. Go to the other one,” he added to you calmer. You only rolled your eyes, but didn’t continue any longer. You could almost see Harley’s point, but it didn’t change the very basic fact that the other car was old and shaking your bones off on every bump in the road.

“Fine,” you muttered, throwing your hands up like a child. The car smelled like gunpowder, oil, and sweat. “Just out of curiosity - are all soldiers immune to this stench or do you just like it?” you asked Flag once he hopped into the back, slapping the roof to let the driver know to go.

“It’s better than running,” he shrugged, checking his radio.

He was close in the small space, partially occupied by gear for later use. Your legs touched, as did your arms, even though you tried to become one with the car’s door, suddenly aware of the heat radiating from the man.

“Are you okay?” he asked, probably noticing the color creeping on your face. Why did he have to be so close? You didn’t even have a place to turn around.

“Yeah, I’m just tired,” you tried to shrug it off casually, thanking gods for the wind blowing in the open window, for it cooled your face down at least a little bit. “I just want all of this to be over with. I’m tired of chasing the shadows throughout the whole city.”

Flag seemed to become concerned about it more than you expected. He eyed you alarmed. “Are you sure you can finish the mission? Don’t push yourself, it’s not necessary.”

“I’m not a kid, Flag, I can take of myself,” you stopped his ranting before he got wound up too much.

“I know,” he agreed lightly, much to your surprise, and even with half of a smile. “And since you’re all grown up, I take it you won’t want to go for the usual after we finish?”

“No burnt pancakes and cheap blunts during the football streaming?” you gasped. “Now, that’s just mean.”

Flag laughed under his breath. You could see the tiny wrinkles forming around his eyes and mouth. Your mouth opened, ready to quip something witty, but before you managed, something hit the car with a crash that sent you spinning without control over your body.

First came the blessed fog of stupor, when everything around you was still a blur and voices distant and meaningless. You were hung in between spinning colors and unexpectedly cold air. The weightlessness ended with a sharp pull that pushed you into the hard ground and pulled the air from your lungs.

Gasping like a fish on the shore, you blinked, sending the blur away while tossing to the side. You had no idea what just happened, but your experience in the field was certain that staying in one place was not the best of ideas.

Finding cover, you finally swallowed what felt like a handful of dust in your mouth. Shots echoed unnaturaly. Pulling your hands to your ears, you felt the hot, thick blood dripping on your neck. At least you weren’t completely deafened.

Unsheathing a knife, you threw yourself into the closest enemy, throwing him off-balance since you were still on the ground. You didn’t trust your legs yet, but knives had never once failed you. Dipping it into the man’s throat, you failed to notice a big, heavy boot coming at you from the side.

The kick flipped you around causing your back to roughly crash into the ground. A jolt of pain rushed through your body, making stars dance in front of your eyes.

Before you managed to move, the second man fell, clutching his chest, a hole the size of an apple dripping blood down the front of his shirt. Glancing around, you noticed a very worn-looking Flag running in your direction. Deadshot ducked down the alley nearby, running after the rest of the attackers.

“Are you alright?” Flag knelt by your side, jerking you upwards before you uttered a word.

A sharp needle of pain burned through your leg, now all bloody and shaky. Flag noticed it immediately.

“No!” you exclaimed, pushing him away from you, and away from the bottle he already pulled out from one of his countless pockets. “I’m totally fine, I don’t need that!”

Writhing in his grip sent new shots of pain through your body, but you didn’t care. Only once had you ever had the unpleasantness of using the ‘magic med’ and you’d rather die than repeat the treatment.

“Look at that gash, it’s going to get infected!” Flag pulled you back to him, struggling to hold you in place. “Look, it’s just a few drops-”

“It burns like hell! You can put those drops in your b-”

Deadshot came around you, holding your leg down all of the sudden.

“No one’s in sight range,” he reported, joining the colonel in holding you. “I think the rest fled to regroup, but there aren’t many left judging by the number of bodies around us. Give me the bottle.”

“Don’t give him the bottle!” you yelled. “Deadshot, you’re a traitor and I will never forget that!”

The man just grinned, openly laughing at your misery. Harley waved to you from Flag’s back. Of course she didn’t even get a scratch.

“Don’t you dare give it to that rat,” you threatened Flag. “I want you to do it and to do it quickly or I’ll kill you both- Oh my god!”

You gasped for air when Flag just spilled the sanitizer onto the wound.

“That’s flattering,” he smirked, obviously pleased that you’d chosen him over Deadshot, “but you need to work on your threats. You can’t even walk right now.”

“I’m gonna crawl and bite through your aorta in your sleep,” you muttered through gritted teeth, watching the yellowish foam come from the wound. The blood stopped leaking, but your whole leg burned like it was dipped in acid.

“Now, that’s what I call commitment,” Harley proudly clapped her hands.

“Alright, end of the show, now go contact Alpha team in front of us and get us a good place to regroup,” Flag commanded loudly, waving the people off.

“You’re a bitch,” you whispered to him once you were alone. He helped you up, putting your arm on his shoulder to steady you. “I’m gonna need double stuffed crust pizza afterwards.”

“Anything for you,” Flag promised with amusement, half dragging you to the group.


	2. Chapter 2

Flag turned the lights on, pushing the darkness away from the corridor in his apartment. Locking the door, he pulled his coat off and draped it across a chair.

You leaned on the wall, catching your breath. Your heart pounded heavily in your ears, ready to jump out.

“Why is the elevator still not working?” you whispered, barely breathing. “It’s been months.”

Flag laughed bitterly. “Guess the owner doesn’t care.”

“My leg cares a lot. Why didn’t you carry me up?”

“Would you like me to?” Flag asked with amusement, eyeing you with a raised eyebrow.

“On second thought, not really. It would destroy my reputation.”

Flag seemed a little disappointed, but tried to cover it on the way to the kitchen. The clicking sound of lights being turned on marked his way. He put the bags on the counter, taking the food out.

“You want the usual?” he shouted to you, still bent in half near the doors.

“You got any cold beer left?” you answered, moving slowly.

You’ve been on the painkillers, but your recently injured leg felt stiff and uncomfortable, giving you a hard time walking around. The mission where it happened ended a few days ago and then you were transported to a hospital - of course, not a civilian one. A prisoners’ foot would never cross its doorstep, not on Amanda Waller’s watch.

She’s been a living nightmare to you, poisoning and impeding every part of your life outside the prison as much as she could. It took Flag almost two days to convince her not to send you back to your cell right after the medics judged you could walk.

You took a deep breath. Flag’s apartment smelled like dust, old clothes, and a room not ventilated properly for a while. It was still better than your cell, though.

“You planning an escape there or what?” Flag’s voice cut through the living room.

“Yeah, give me a second, I forgot it was the 6th floor.”

“That’s why I always do all the planning,” you heard him laugh, opening the oven to heat the pizza up. How far you’ve come from the mistrust of first few missions together. He’d never let you roam a room so freely, left on your own.

Passing the TV in the living room, you turned it on to some random news channel just to have something in the background. It was one of the habits you’d taken behind the bars. Sitting alone for hours without any sound would drive you even more mad.

“Don’t you wish we had problems like that?” you nodded to the TV, sitting by the counter in the middle of Flag’s kitchen.

The small space was free of unnecessary items, just like the rest of his apartment. Maybe it wasn’t as ascetic as your prison cell, but you’d never seen any mess or random clothes and utensils just laying around. Flag valued control and utility even in his personal life.

You watched him put the rest of the food in place, of course the same as always. You could walk through his kitchen with eyes closed and find anything you needed. He rarely changed a routine unless it called for it. Throwing the bags away, he looked over you to the news.

“Blackmailing and bribery? Why would I want to be an office worker?”

“You’re right, catching rogue witches and stopping the end of the world every 3 weeks sounds way better.”

“I’d go nuts if it was every 3 weeks,” he stated with a huff, leaning over the counter and putting his elbows on it.

“Come on, Rick, it wouldn’t be so bad, you’d have your favourite Squad with you - all those psychos to choose from, maybe even take shifts.”

“Don’t you even say it, bad luck happens to listen in the worst time,” he warned you. “And I really don’t want to babysit the Squad more often than I absolutely have to.”

“They are adorable.”

“From what angle exactly is Killer Croc adorable?”

You thought about it. “The back maybe. If he’s got clothes on and it’s dark. Yeah, he’s a tough one, but the rest are adorable.”

Flag chuckled at first, but the laugh left him after a moment. Something serious appeared in his eyes, surprising you, but not as much as his next words.

“Deadshot too?”

Staring at him blankly, you patiently waited for a continuation, but didn’t get any. Flag seemed to regret saying anything, though. He moved away, looking down at his feet. A news speaker described another story, exaggerating every fact as usual, completely unaware no one was listening to him anymore.

“Forget it,” he finally blurted out. “It’s none of my business.”

“Wait, what exactly is not your business, because I honestly feel like I lost you there,” you stopped him, already feeling the anger rising in your guts. You had no idea why he choose to accuse you out of the blue, but you didn’t like it one bit.

“Nevermind, okay?” he backed away to the sink, raising his hands. “It’s your life, I have nothing to do with your decisions.”

“It doesn’t sound like it. What exactly is your problem, Flag? ‘Cause now that I think of it, every time Deadshot talks with me or even breathes in my direction, you act as if you sat on a very furious bee. What is it?” you inquired, still not yelling, even though you really wanted to.

“I don’t want no beef, okay? I don’t have anything against him, I just thought you’d choose better,” he said, disappointment and pain marking his voice made you forget whatever you were about to say.

Flag wasn’t looking at you, focused on his shoes and probably cursing his tongue. Before you thought what you were doing, you were already halfway to him, ready to kick some sense into his dumb head. You managed to stop and take a deep breath to steady your racing heart and nerves, stretched out as thin as wires. Flag must have sensed your murderous intentions, because he was writhing in place, all tense and ready to move out of your reach.

“I am. Not. Dating. Floyd,” you waved away his protest before he interrupted you. “And I am not planning to do that anytime soon. I have no idea how you got that dumb idea, but just because we are fairly close friends, don’t assume the rest. Please.”

Flag seemed relieved, but stood careful, still eyeing you with a weird look on his face. You raised your eyebrows, waiting.

“O…kay?” he tried.

“And that’s all you’ve got to say now? First you accuse me of sleeping with him, make some weird comments and now I don’t even-…”

“Alright, just calm down, I’m sorry, I was wrong. I don’t know what else you want to hear,” he sounded thin with tension and a sort of shame.

That surprised you. Your anger was only a faint memory now, and your head was clearing up. Flag shouldn’t have angered you so easily, what he said wasn’t that much of a problem, you had no idea what made you react so badly.

“Sorry,” you laughed nervously. “Hope I didn’t scare you that much?”

“You’ve got no idea how terrifying you can get when you’re really mad, do you?” Flag smirked with a new found respect.

“You haven’t yet seen me truly mad.”

“I was already thinking about a way to get to my gun.”

“I’m faster.”

“And injured.”

“And soon I’ll be burned too if you don’t stop the fire in the oven.”

“What- Oh shi-…”

You watched with amusement his short ride to the oven, opening it up before turning it off, which only made all the thick smoke spread out faster.

Shaking your head and listening to his swearing only a little, you opened the window, hoping to get just enough air to breathe. Flag was coughing, but managed to get the black mass out on the counter.

“And now I’ll also be hungry,” you announced sadly, looking at the burnt remains of what could have been a great meal.

Flag leaned over his creation. His shoulders were shaking and it took you only a few disturbed seconds to notice he was actually laughing.

“But, you know, it’s still one of the better evenings we’ve had,” you smiled too, coming closer to admire the view fully. “At least it’s not boring…”

He turned, capturing the rest of your words in a kiss, more gentle than you would have thought. It was more of an uncertain brush, but just enough to make you light-headed.

“Oh,” you muttered slyly when he moved a little. “So that’s why.”

“It took you a while,” he whispered just as quietly, his gaze intense and searching, not sure how you would react.

“Not as long as you,” with a hand on his stubble, you pulled him closer again.


	3. Chapter 3

Fingers brushing through his hair tickled in the most pleasant way, making him want to lean his head back and let your hand roam free.

The kiss deepened when he gently pushed you till your back touched the counter. Warmth seeped through the clothes, caught the breath in his throat when you moved so close to him, still slowly and carefully, but exploring the possibilities with every touch, the bodies screaming for more.

Pulling you up on the counter felt like the only right thing to do. The dark mass of the burned pizza shattered on the floor, but it didn’t matter at that moment. Rick stepped even closer, settling between your legs like he belonged there, and there was no part of you doubting it.

Rough fingers brushed your legs, not shaking, but you felt how much he wanted to tighten the grip, almost painfully tense, as if it would get rid of any space between you, blurring the outlines of your bodies, shaping it into one…

The phone rang.

Rick shivered, and you felt the muscles in his arms twitching with anger. You pulled away just enough to see his face. If the caller was standing next to him, he’d break their neck without blinking.

His eyes met yours, close enough for you to see how flustered he had gotten, ragged breath warm and needy on your cheek. Heavy eyelids hid a burning gaze, peaking down at your kiss-swollen lips. You didn’t need to hear his thoughts to know them.

“Pick up the phone,” you muttered softly before he decided to ignore it like he really wanted to.

“I’m gonna kill the bastard.”

He leaned back just enough to pull the phone out of his pocket. You saw the name. “I’ll help you hide the body.”

“What do you want, Waller?” Rick’s voice was still raspy, but you hoped his boss wouldn’t ask questions. You hated her since the day you met and it was a reciprocated feeling. Metahumans were only objects in her eyes.

Rick moved back a little, but didn’t leave you. His free hand was still tracing some intricate patterns on your leg. You couldn’t hear Waller well, but his face changed momentarly, planting a seed of fear in your heart. The mood already vanished.

Your eyes met. Rick looked stunned.

“I understand,” was all he managed to say before disconnecting.

Silence fell between you, heavy and painful. Flag put the phone on the counter with enough force to break it. He looked down, breathing rapidly.

“What did she say?” you asked, pulling his head to rest on your arm. He embraced you, breathing in your scent.

“She wants to show you to the Comittee tomorrow,” he finally muttered into your hair, not daring to see your reaction. His grip tightened around you - a mere substitute of protection he’d like to cover you with. “She is pleased with how well you cooperated lately and wants the others to approve a deal on a larger scale.”

“What does that mean?”

Coldness froze the tips of your fingers, making your hands shake while you were brushing Rick’s hair. Your heart pounded rapidly, a paralyzing sense of terror creeped into your thoughts, creating your own personal hell. Waller was exactly the type of person to suspect the worst from.

“I’ve had that happen to my Corps back when I was exclusively in Special Forces. We did well on a few extremely difficult missions, so some influential old guy decided we could be used in more creative ways.”

“Do you think she wants to get me to some other area? A different type of mission could mean anything with me, she could even sell me to some rich bastards on the other side of the globe if she decided it would pay off…”

“Stop it, no one is going to sell you-...”

“I’m a metahuman, Rick. I’m not in any records, I don’t even have human rights. You know how easy it would be to just hand me over to-...”

He pulled back and cut you off with a kiss before you fell too deep into speculations. He understood how scary it was from his own experience - the lack of any certainty, the thoughts analyzing one bad option after another with no way out.

He held your face in his hands, the contrast between his rough palms and your soft skin wonderfully intoxicating. Your foreheads touched.

“I will not let anything happen to you,” he promised in a barely audible whisper. “Amanda Waller is not almighty and she can’t do whatever she chooses to. She still needs the approval of many parties. The only thing she can do tomorrow is show you to them and show off what she’s got up her sleeve. I still know people here and there, I can pull some strings if she goes too far.”

“That’s not good either. I’m not her toy to just bring in front of some old disgusting men to look me up and down. Besides, they must’ve already read my files, they don’t need me in person.”

“Reading about something that may just as well be a lie and seeing it with their own eyes is different. And I know, it’s not fair, but we need to endure this. I’ll be there with you, I won’t leave you. We can make it,” tenderness in his words made you smile weakly.

“You sound so sure about it.”

“Of course I do. Don’t you trust me?”

“You know that’s not the issue. God, I just can’t stop thinking about it. Let’s order something to eat and watch something stupid. I need to take my mind off of this crap.”

Half an hour later, you were laying on his chest, trying to focus on anything other than the crippling sense of not having control over whatever happens tomorrow. Flag was right - you were an important asset in Waller’s sleeve and she wouldn’t want to lose or give you up. But there always was something hidden in all her moves, any decision she made gave something else to her. She was intelligent and cunning, but above all - greedy. You were actually surprised she didn’t chain you to herself or Flag already.

Even the close proximity to Flag didn’t help to calm your mind completely. It was a strange feeling to know what you have been feeling for him for the past months was reciprocated. It warmed you, but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t ease into it completely - not as long as whatever Waller had planned for you became clear. What if she wanted to separate you? Send you off far away for God knows how long? She could do that and wouldn’t even bat an eye.

“Don’t think about it,” Rick’s voice cut through your intrusive thoughts as if he could hear them. You could feel it vibrating in his chest. “You will never guess what she’s on to.”

“I hate dressing up. How can you be so calm?”

“I’ll come prepared.”

“Wait,” something struck you out of nowhere. “If you go with me, does that mean you’re going to clean shave?”

“Among… other things,” he admitted, taken away by the train of thought you used. “I actually had a little different kind of preparation in mind, you know?”

“Maybe, but I’ve never seen you without the mustache.”

“Don’t you like it?” he asked cautiously, licking it with the tip of his tongue absentmindedly- a nervous tick you noticed a long time ago.

“I’m just curious.”

* * *

Dressing up felt ridiculous, but you wanted to at least look presentable. Tugging on clothes you’ve only ever worn once in your life, you wished for everything to just end already. Nerves were eating you alive, only worsened by the ascetic corridors full of soldiers you had been walked through. Having Flag by your side was the only thing keeping you from fleeing that place.

When you were told to enter the room, all the eyes inside plastered to you, judging and heavy. Flag gripped your hand one last time before Waller gestured for you to come closer to her on top of the giant table. The variety of people sitting by the other sides had only one thing in common and it was their distrust towards you. You could feel its presence in the air, just like the expensive, suffocating scent of Waller’s perfume. It was the first time since she made you join Suicide Squad that you were standing so close to her. The anger raised in you once again - you could kill her with just one slip of your hand, show all those generals, politicians, and fat cats that you did not belong to her, that you were more than she could ever comprehend or tame…

Some of your thoughts must have slipped on your face, because when you glanced over the heads of the Comitee to Flag, he quickly shook his head, warning you not to do anything stupid. His eyes were wide and fixed entirely on you, but you were sure he already memorized the placement of all the security agents inside the room. He looked strange without his uniform, dressed in a well-tailored suit like a completely different person. His gun had been taken away before you even entered the building, but you were sure if you decided to break your strings, he’d follow and protect you. All you had to do was just snap her neck…

He shook his head again. One of the security guards eyed him suspiciously.

Waller cleared her throat. She must have said something.

Turning your gaze, you decided to wait. It wasn’t the right time.

Waller’s eyes were cold and threatening. She didn’t like being ignored.

“How about a little sample of what we are talking about?” she asked with a voice so sweet it made you nauseous.

“Of course,” was all you said, though. You could kill her any other day, not here and now, where Flag could get in the crossfire.

* * *

Flag wanted to bite his nails, watching you show your powers in front of the Comitee. He knew you well enough to see how close you were to attacking Waller and everyone in the room. If he only could, he’d yell at them to make them stop whispering and snickering - you could hear everything and it surely wasn’t helping you stay calm.

He practically ran to you the moment Waller dismissed you. He put an arm around you, clearly feeling the tension in your muscles. He didn’t even look back, completely focused on taking you home as fast as possible.

After the door closed behind you, Waller let a smile grow on her face. She looked like a cat with a bird in its fangs.

“You see now, general,” she turned to the man on her left. “I have everything under control.”

He didn’t seem convinced, wiping the sweat away from his brow.

“For a moment I was sure we’d have a massacre here,” he admitted and the rest of the crowd followed.

“Dog needs its fangs to bite. You can’t break them and hope it’ll still kill your enemies.”

“But you still need a leash-...”

“And that’s exactly what I have,” Waller had abruptly cut him off, raising her chin towards the exit you and Flag used a few minutes ago. “Flag controls the mutant, caring for its well-being more than I hoped for. And I control the bomb planted in its neck.”

One of the woman frowned with disbelief,” You couldn’t have possibly predict they would-...”

“I could and I did. That’s my job,” Waller added proudly, looking through the faces of the Comitee and the others. “This is my offer. As long as I’m the head of this project, I’ll personally keep a close eye on anything that happens inside of it. You’ve just witnessed what I can do.”

“Through manipulation,” said one of the politicians.

“None of us would be sitting where we are now if we didn’t use any means possible to achieve our position, ” Waller pointed out coldly.

The Comitee erupted in anxious whispers and quick glances, agitated by everything they’ve witnessed. Waller stood calmly at one end of the table with an unreadable face, not letting her guard fall down for even a second. A smile tried to creep onto her lips, but she quickly stifled it. Even though the people were skeptical, she already knew how they would vote. What she had just shown them was pure power over the entity that was way more than just human, and greed always won the hearts of humans.

After all, it was always about the power.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed it as much as I did. I'm working on a new Flag x reader series, so stay tuned if you want some more goodies.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed the first part! Please tell me what you think! You may also visit me on silence-burns.tumblr.com if you want to see more of my fics earlier.


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